


Feared Never To Be Seen Again

by afteriwake



Series: Molly Madness Month - March 2017 [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Molly, BAMF Molly Hooper, Established Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Injured Molly, Married Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, POV Molly Hooper, POV Sherlock Holmes, Plane Crash, Poor Molly, Post-Season/Series 04, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:30:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9882887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: On her way to a conference in Scotland, a malfunction with the chartered plane Molly is on causes it to crash in an uninhabited area of England with no way of communicating with anyone to get help for herself and the others who were injured. A series of heavy storms in the area make it hard to search for the plane, leading many to believe they may not have survived. But both Molly and Sherlock have ideas quite to the contrary...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NSquared](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NSquared/gifts).



> So this prompt (" _Sherlolly, "Where's Molly?" "Plane crash.", M, happy turnout :]_ ") was sent to me ages ago by **Nsquared** and was recently claimed in January by **whykhan** which _finally_ prompted me to write it for my own personal Molly Madness Month. Sorry it's so late but I hope you all enjoy!

She stretched in bed, not at all surprised to feel an arm around her waist the minute she started to pull away. Sherlock didn’t want her to go on this trip as much as she didn’t want to go, apparently. She smiled as she felt him nuzzle her neck, his lips finding the spot that drove her crazy. “Mmm...Sherlock, I have to get up and start getting ready.”

“No. Stay. We can take the time you’d be at the conference and spend it in bed,” he said, applying his teeth to the spot, and she slowly let her hand drift until it was settled on his hip, tracing his hipbone and occasionally tangling into the curly hair there. “We’re still newlyweds. It’s to be expected.”

“Yes, but I’ll get _sacked_ and you’ll lose your favorite pathologist,” she said, letting her fingers drift a bit lower.

“You don’t want to go,” he replied. “Feign an illness. Feign morning sickness. I’ll help make it a reality,” he said before using his body to roll her over onto her back.

Molly looked up at him, laughing, her eyes full of brightness. “Oh, you are incorrigible, you know that?” she said. She let her hand move back up until it was settled on his bare chest over his heart. “I thought we decided to wait on children.”

“I may have been persuaded to reconsider,” he said before kissing her. This was probably a very good thing to hear, as she hadn’t had the chance to tell him she thought she might be pregnant yet. It was a bit early to tell, but the fact he was reconsidering made her feel happy even though today meant a week away from her husband.

Husband. She had never thought that she and Sherlock would ever be husband and wife. She had never thought they would be anything more than...well, whatever their complicated “friends with benefits” relationship had become after his five-minute exile. She knew he hadn’t paraded around in her flat in his boxers to scare Tom off just because it gave him the jollies to do so. He’d wanted her to see he was the superior specimen. Which, in point of fact, he _was_. But nothing had happened till her engagement was over, because she wasn’t _that_ type of woman.

But it had quickly evolved into something more than just shagging. She had considered maybe that was all it was for him, but she wasn’t sure. He stayed the night and stayed rather close, sometimes, holding her when it was a particularly rough night. He showed up with food and they went places together. But it hadn’t been _dates_. It wasn’t a _relationship_. And she put up with it until the day they were in the ambulance together and she gave him the medical exam. She said they had to make a decision as to what they were, friends or something more. He said he would let her know.

And then there was the explosion and he just disappeared.

She got the call from Rosie’s sitter that John was nowhere to be found and she had to dash, could she take the girl? She got her goddaughter and took her home to the spare room she’d turned into one for Rosie. When Mary had first died she’d spent a few days with John but his grief was unbearable, and she took Rosie home with her. Between Sherlock and John, neither of them were up to handling her, and it was only right someone who loved her watched her. She never thought it was foisted on her, but that night she was rather miffed that the boys had taken off and thought fuck-all of Rosie.

But then she got the call. Oh, she wanted nothing to do with Sherlock, especially when he wanted her to say _those_ words. He knew they were true; he knew how she felt because she had told him so in the ambulance, told him that so he was aware of what he could lose. And now he was treating those words like a game? But she could make him say it first. If she had to feel her heart break she could make him say it first. And he did.

And then he said them _again_.

She was so surprised she almost forgot to tell him because he meant it. As sure as she was of anything, she knew he meant those three words. He did love her. 

But just because he loved her didn’t mean she’d choose a relationship with her. He might not choose _her_ over everything else in his life, even if that wasn’t what she really wanted. And so she hung up.

It wasn’t until much later that there was a frantic banging on her door, loud enough to rouse Rosie from her sleep, and she opened it to find Sherlock there, disheveled and worried and looking all out of sorts. He started talking while still outside her door, about a secret sister and a cavalcade of horrors because said sister was psychotic and she had threatened to blow her up if she didn’t say the words and he loved her, he did, and he was done with the foolishness of not saying so and marriage, they should get married and she had to kiss him to get him to just _stop._

When he was calmer, hours later after they had informed John that Rosie was with Molly and he’d come to pick her up and they’d spent time together, celebrating the fact they were both alive and their feelings were crystal clear, he brought up marriage again. And...she agreed. Marriage didn’t seem so bad, not really. Not after what they’d had _essentially_ being a relationship. But not quite yet. She wanted something proper. 

And now here they were, six months after the day he banged on her door, nearly two months after the wedding, and she was as happy as she had been in her entire life. Or she would be, if she didn’t have to fly into Scotland for a forensic pathology conference.

Eventually, she pushed at him and the kiss ended. “Really, I have to get ready,” she said, running her fingers down his chest. “I have a flight to catch and things to do, and--”

“Mycroft can arrange a chartered plane,” Sherlock said, moving his lips back to her neck. “He’d much prefer I give our parents a grandchild so they’ll stop expecting it of him. The less he deals with them these days, the better.” He let his hand glide along her side, then over her hipbones and then he tapped her abdomen. “You’ll be doing your bit for Queen and country.”

She laughed until his fingers moved again, and then she sucked in a breath and let out a low moan. Oh, perhaps a chartered flight wouldn’t be so bad for some more quality time with her husband in bed...


End file.
